


Forever Home

by LilouandLila



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013), The Fosters (TV 2013) RPF
Genre: Child Abuse, Jack loves Jude, Jack's death, Jude - Freeform, Other, poor jack :(, really horrible child abuse, why the hell did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilouandLila/pseuds/LilouandLila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What I think happened leading up to Jack's death. *If you are triggered by violent child abuse, please don't read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Home

The room was cold, colder than his group home and much colder than Jude's house. Jude. It had only been a little while since he'd left, but it felt like a lifetime ago. He wanted to talk to his friend, to cry into his shoulder and show the new bruises and go back to how things were before, to the Foster's house, the old foster home, even the group home. Anything was better than this. But his phone lay smashed on the living room floor, specks of blood coating it's screen. He thought of Jude's room, the soft bed and the sound of his friend's slow, peaceful breathing. His new room was grey and empty, no bed, not even a blanket to wrap around his shivering body. Nothing. His hands shaking, he carefully peeled the bloody shirt over his head, flinching as the rough fabric rubbed against his raw skin. Dark bruises covered his stomach, a vile mix of swollen black marks and bloody, broken skin.  
He hadn't tried to be bad. He'd just wanted to call Jude. But phone calls, he had learned, were not permitted in this place. Ever. And so he'd been thrown to the ground, kicked as he sobbed and curled into himself, trying to protect himself but with no success. Each blow had sent waves of pain through his cowering form, over and over until he couldn't cry anymore, until he just lay there as agony engulfed him. He just needed to call Jude, then everything would be okay. Jude would get him out of here, take him somewhere safe.   
He had seen the landline. It was in the kitchen, perched on the shelf above the microwave. As long as he wasn't caught, he'd be able to call Jude; he knew his number, it wouldn't be that hard. So he pulled himself to his feet, nearly collapsing from pain, and carefully opened the door, peering around the corner. No one. He slipped through the doorway, creeping towards the kitchen, trying to stay on his feet, trying not to fall and give himself away. He reached the kitchen, walking toward to phone, picking it up, dialing the number... But a fist connected with his stomach before he could hit call, and he crumpled to the ground, a scream barely escaping his lips before a dirty sock was shoved into his mouth, muffling his sobs. Crack. A foot slammed into him, excruciating pain flying through his body. Crack. Crack. Crack. He tried to scream, tried to fight, but he couldn't move, couldn't make a sound beyond the muffled cries coming from his mouth. Crack. Tears streamed down his face, sliding down his huddled form and mixing with the blood the soaked his body. Crack. Crack. His screams died, turning to broken, uncontrollable sobs as his ribs fractured. Jude. Help me, please help me. His foster father pulled the sock from his mouth and his stomach gave way, bringing up a mix of bile and blood and slewing it over the floor. Crack. Crack. Crack. He threw up again, but this time it was just blood, so much blood. He couldn't breathe, his lungs full of blood and his nose dripping snot and more of the red sticky substance. Crack. With the final kick, his body gave way and he lay on the floor, unmoving, choking as he tried to breathe, dying on the floor of that horrible, horrible place.   
Maybe this will be your last foster home. Maybe this will be your forever home.


End file.
